Night Of The Big Heat (1967)

Remember those conversations we used to have in the playground during the atom bomb eighties, when everyone seriously expected that we'd all end our days with just four minutes to do whatever we could? Usually the conversations went along the lines of:

"I'd steal a Porsche..." (none of us could drive, or knew how to hotwire a car. Also, this was rural South Cheshire. We might have been able to find a tractor within four minutes, or if we were lucky, a Ford Capri)

"Well, I'd get pissed..." (actually, probably the most realistic claim, as half a can of Top Deck shandy would have probably done the trick)

In the 60s, there were no thoughts of car stealing when it came to the end of the world. But getting pissed did feature quite heavily. In films like The Deadly Bees, The Earth Dies Screaming and, of course, Night Of The Big Heat, huge natural disasters mean only one thing - a trip to the local pub.

Not that there's much wrong with that, of course - and it also gives these films a believable stage to tell their unbelievable stories on. Take for example this one. The temperature on a small island off the British coast keeps rising - despite the fact that it's winter and bloody freezing on the mainland. But is anyone worried? Nah. They're just a bit hot and sweaty, that's all.

Of course, the mainland knows all about the freak weather conditions, but have they sent anyone to investigate? Not a bit of it. There's just Christopher Lee, wandering around and bothering the sheep, by all accounts. Strange man.

He's the only one who is bothered about the temperature, yet everyone thinks he's the odd one. I ask you... Anyway, there's a number of deaths, the temperature keeps on rising, and Peter Cushing refuses to take his jacket off. Chris Lee deduces that there's extra terrestrial powers at work, most of the cast get fried, and then it rains and the "aliens" (which look like cast-offs from 60s Star Trek) all die. Crap, really.

Most of the film is more a kind of domestic drama than sci-fi invasion extravaganza, with that bloke out of the Barratt Homes ads trying his best to ignore the sultry shenanigans of his sweaty secretary and the temperature in the pub getting so hot that all the bottles of Pilsner explode. Is that likely? I think not.

And if the monsters' temperatures are so high, how come humans can survive so long in their presence? You see, crap.

Last updated: February 11, 2010